All language subtitles for John McTiernan & Stephen Hopkins - Predator Vol. 02 - English with German Subs

JMG subs

The heat wave continues.
It's 109 degrees in Los Angeles.

As drought-ridden Los Angeles
swelters in agonizing heat,

drug lords wage warfare in the streets.

Yet another open conflict...
Oh, fuck this! Get me out of here!

We're in a war zone, Dave: Two motorcycle
officers horribly wounded in a crossfire,

the police seemingly
unable to rescue them

in spite of several
desperate, heroic attempts.

It's completely out of control down here.

My beautiful cantina,
everything I own, they shot it to pieces.

My microwave, my automatic steamer,
my grill... You fucking pendejos!

Fuck you!

Tony Pope, live with Hard Core,
on the scene and in your face.

It's like Dante's hell:
Smoke, fire, oppressive heat,

as Colombian and Jamaican drug fiends
again transform LA into a slaughterhouse.

Who the hell's in charge down here?
The cops? Uh-uh.

They're outmanned,
outgunned and incompetent.

Mr. Mayor,
on vacation in your home in Lake Tahoe,

get off your butt,
get down here and declare martial law!

OK, don't keep me in suspense,
Danny boy!

It has not been a nice day!

Two motors pulled over a truck, stumbled
right in the middle of a narc stakeout.

You know, ten Colombians
and Scorpios armed to fuck all.

They're trying to get
in their headquarters.

We're keeping them pinned down,
but those officers are bleeding to death.

- Fuck! They're dying, man.
- Where the hell is Special Weapons?

They're still tied up in that shootout
in San Pedro with the Jamaicans.

They shot down a chopper.

Mills and Johnson won't last much longer.
We need an assault vehicle to go get 'em.

I'm gonna chat with these assholes.
When I give the signal,

- give me some cover!
- Got it!

Too small.

Right.

Come on! Come on!
Get 'em out of here! Now!

Vamonos!

Get 'em out! Get 'em out!

- Vamonos!
- Vamonos!

Hey, assholes!

- Mike, are you OK?
- Yeah. Let's get the rest.

We can't. Orders from Chief Heinemann.
He says surround building and wait.

- Wait for what?
- I don't know!

Some bullshit special unit.
The feds, the DEA.

If we let those bastards get dug in now,
we'll have to level the building!

- Hijo de puta.
- No, es para mi.

- Vamonos! Vamonos!
- Venga! Aprisa!

Venga! Chingale! Chingale!

Come and get it. El Scorpio is ready.

- Sarge, any of your people in the building?
- No.

Let's go.

Lieutenant, can't let you in.
Heinemann's on his way.

Heinemann can kiss my sweet ass!
Come on!

Goddamn it. Go with him.

Three, two, one...

Go!

Get back.

Next door over.

Take this room!

First floor, officer down. We need backup.

Freeze! I said hold it!

Now, lay your guns down.
You can walk down or fly, it's your choice.

I said put it down, asshole!

No!

- Let's do it now!
- Take it easy.

Damn, it's hot.

Must be losing it.

Mike!

Spread out. Secure the roof.

Just take it easy. I'm right here.

All clear. All clear on the site.

Oh, Danny boy.
I gotta get down from here.

Shit.

OK, search the roof.
Check every floor. Maybe someone else...

Seal it off. No one leaves.
Danny, get me off this damn roof.

- You get the rest of them?
- Somebody beat us to it.

Leona.

Oh, shit.

- What happened to El Scorpio?
- He's out front having lunch.

What the hell is this?

I don't know. They've been cut to pieces.
Must be the Jamaicans.

Their style, but where
the hell did they go?

OK, nobody gets in here
until Forensic arrives. Nobody.

OK, you know the drill.

Mike. Up there.

He must have been killed out here,
and then someone...

That's about 35, 40 feet.
No rope, no ladder.

The guy weighs about 190, 195 pounds.
You couldn't carry him up there.

Lieutenant?

Deputy Chief Heinemann's downstairs.
He wants you out of the building now.

Son of a bitch.

- What the fuck is going on?
- This is not good, Mike. Not good at all.

- I want a real name on this joker, OK?
- You got it.

Mike.

Phil, this is quite a surprise.
What brings you down from the palace?

You let me down, Mike.
You're making me look bad.

I thought we had an understanding.

I put my ass on the line to get you here,
and all I expect is a little cooperation!

You were told this was a federal matter.

Yet you disobeyed an order
to stay out of the building.

Don't let this get out, Phil,
but it's a fucking war down here.

Soldiers take orders. Don't push it!

I'll push it as far as I can, Phil,
cos we're fighting for our lives here,

while you're downtown
pushing pencils and kissing ass!

I don't roll over for anybody,
especially the feds,

without a goddamn good explanation!

Take this equipment up to the third floor.
Come on, let's move!

- Let's go.
- Excuse me, sir!

What the hell is going on here,
Heinemann?

Insubordination.
Disregard for direct orders

from a supervising officer.

Now get back to your cage at Alvarado.

I'll show you insubordination,
you son of...

- No!
- Where you running to? Come here!

You don't need this, Mike.
It's not worth it.

- Relax.
- Oh, fuck!

I have an update for you.

In a shootout, five members
of one Colombian drug gang

were ambushed by their bloody rivals,
the Jamaican Voodoo Posse,

who escaped without a trace -
again making total fools of...

- A detective is here to see you.
- Back there.

Listen, lady, you got a backed-up toilet.
Call a plumber, not the cops.

- This license has expired.
- Bullshit! I paid that fee six months ago.

- I'll kick your ass!
- Sit down! Right now!

- Move! Get your ass movin'!
- Just calm the fuck down!

What you lookin' at?

And all you got to do
is tee it high and let it fly.

Dead solid perfect.

Now, remember, for distance
you gotta gently but firmly grip the club.

Lieutenant Harrigan!
Detective Lambert, Rampart Division.

Hey, kid, just have a seat.
I'll be right with you.

- Hey, Cap.
- Don't start, Mike.

Heinemann's already
been up my ass so far

I won't be able to sit down for a week.
We're not winning this war.

As much as it'll piss you off,
you'll have to play the game.

"Effective immediately,
a federal task force

under Special Agent Peter Keyes
will investigate criminal activities

involving the trafficking
of controlled substances."

And you will extend him
your full cooperation.

So you're cutting off my dick
and shoving it up my ass.

The feds are calling the shots on this.
My hands are tied!

- Yeah?
- Captain Pilgrim, Peter Keyes.

- It's good to meet you.
- And you, sir.

Lieutenant Mike Harrigan.
Special Agent Peter Keyes, DEA.

Heard a lot about you.

I'm sorry for this jurisdictional intrusion.
Don't mean to be stepping on your toes.

But we want to prevent
King Willie's voodoo gangs

from taking over the entire West Coast.

I wish I could tell you more.

But we have a large number
of deep-cover operatives involved.

You know how it is.
We all have a job to do.

Now, I'm sure we can respect
each other's situation

and act responsibly.

Well,

cooperation

is my middle name.

I'll see you around.

- I'm the new transfer, Jerry Lambert.
- Like I said, have a seat.

I'll be right with you.

- Who is this dude?
- Yeah, what an asshole.

All right, Danny boy, what we got?

What have we got? Five lowlife Scorpions
make it into the building.

The next minute they're all shish kabob.
Not one bullet wound.

It wasn't drugs or money.
There's a shitload of that.

Maybe King Willie brought in some
outside talent. He's making his big move.

A pro would have split
the moment he heard us.

More than one, we would have seen them.

Whoever did this
waited until the last minute,

and then took out four men
armed with machine guns by hand!

And then got by us.

Maybe we should give him a job.
Let's put him on the payroll.

So me and my partner bolt up the stairs,
somebody is screaming bloody murder...

- You gotta hear this.
- What?!

Hey, I forgot to tell you.
See that guy there?

That's Ferris's replacement.

This guy's Jerry Lambert.
The Lone Ranger from Rampart station.

That's the Lone Ranger?

I thought he was here
to fix the air conditioning.

I said "Lady, you are under arrest."
And she said "Why?"

I said "Because your husband is dead.
You killed him."

- Know what she said, didn't miss a beat?
- No.

She said "I stabbed that
son of a bitch plenty of times.

He never died on me before."

Looks like he's putting the moves
to Leona.

His first big mistake.

- I have heard about you.
- Yeah?

- Like your last partner got shot.
- What?

Well...

You try that cowboy shit with me, fucker,
you can kiss these goodbye.

- Got it?
- Yeah, I got it.

Well, well, I see that
the three of you have met.

Lambert, if you're feeling up to it,
why don't you limp your way in

to the lieutenant. He wants to talk to you.

- You're a bad girl.
- I like that.

Goddamn, is that bitch on the rag
or what?

This is what I call "the speech," kid.
I only give it once, so pay attention.

Until now, it's all been fun and games,
cops and robbers, dunking doughnuts.

But you're in the shit now.
Metro Command is a war zone.

Lieutenant, I've paid my dues.
I had to bust my ass to get my transfer.

And that scares the shit out of me, kid.

No one requests to come here
unless they want a reputation.

There's no room for anyone looking
to prove themselves. I won't stand for it.

Don't get me wrong. We need good cops,
and they say you're good at what you do.

But the team comes first.

You live by that, and you'll be OK.
And we'll all be there for you.

Remember, the door swings both ways.
That's it.

Hey, kid.

Welcome to the war.

OK, guys. This has gone too far now, huh?

Hey, guys.

I know you're trying to scare me, huh?

Well, you did a pretty good job, man.
I'm scared now.

Stop it now. I can pay you.
$2 million, man. In cash.

- Right now!
- This is not about money.

This is about power!

There's a new king in the streets.
This is a message he has for your people.

You are history.
Fucking history, goddamn puto.

What the fuck are you doing now, man?
You're crazy!

King Willie says

not only do I have to kill you,

but I have to take your soul.

Voodoo magic.
Fucking voodoo magic, man.

But you know what?
I tell you what I believe.

Shit happens.

Shoot it!

Fucker!

Shit happens.

I'm standing just outside
a penthouse complex in San Pedro...

...involving as many as 20 people.
It's uncertain who they were.

One report indicates it might be
the feared Jamaican Voodoo Posse.

I go in for my physical and the doctor says
"I need a semen, stool and urine sample."

I say "Gee, doc, I'm in a big hurry.
Can I just leave my underwear?"

Oh, God.

Word is there may be as many as
50 more dead bodies up there.

Oh, man, it's Pope.
That parasite must live in his car.

I'll handle it. PR's my specialty.

Word is they want your ass off the job.

- Tony!
- Who the hell are you?

Your biggest fan!
Catch your show all the time.

I got a job to do!

Your job is to root for garbage elsewhere.

- Been inside?
- Yeah.

We were gonna go in with our guys,
but we were told on a radio transmission

nobody goes in under any circumstances.

All units, be advised.
Federal officers will handle investigation.

- We didn't hear that. Let's go.
- You're the boss.

This is Cheryl Tyer reporting live...

Hey, nice flashlight. Mind if I borrow it?

OK.

Damn!

Look familiar?

Fuck.

Oh, God.

Ramon Vega, the crack king. Biggest
operator in East LA. 100 keys a week.

- Why isn't he skinned? And who are they?
- Jamaicans. King Willie's boys.

That makes no sense.
This was a voodoo ritual.

I've seen it before.
They took his heart out.

- What for?
- Terror tactics, man.

You know,
to scare the shit out of their enemies.

- King Willie.
- Who the hell is King Willie?

King Willie, voodoo priest
of the LA posses.

Ran the terror gangs
for Edward Seaga in Jamaica

till he got too powerful.

The Jamaican chiefs
won't make a move without his approval.

So what the fuck happened? Shit!

Hey, we got a survivor!

What's she saying?

I don't know. She's not making any sense.

She keeps saying
"El diablo vino por ellos."

The devil came for them.

If it's the Colombians,

why'd they leave their boss hanging
and his girl naked on the floor?

- It wasn't the Colombians.
- Our friend from the armory.

Right. We got a new player in town.

Come over here, Mike. Check this out.

What is that?

Looks like a spear tip or something.

This is a restricted area.
I want it cleared immediately.

You're walking on physical evidence.

- We'll take care of her.
- She's with me.

Lieutenant, I'd like
a word with you in private, please.

They say that persistence
is your most outstanding quality.

- I know this is your show...
- You're not listening to me!

You got a big nose and
you're sticking it too far in my business.

Maybe you can hear this.

The next time you cross me,
you're gonna turn up missing.

Garber, the man with the camera.

- Get him.
- Yes, sir.

- All right. Let's go.
- Stay away.

- Hey, fuck you, man! Give me my camera!
- Shut the fuck up.

Hey, wait a minute!
I got my rights! I'm a journalist.

- Harrigan!
- Shut up. Let's go.

Smells like a cover-up.
The press has a right to know!

Take him out of the building. Search him.

Now you get the hell out of here.

Who the hell are you, Keyes?

The last person in the world
you wanna fuck with.

Wanna make me proud, kid?

Take your bag of tricks, stay with them,
find out where they take her.

Meet me later at La Cita's.
And be careful. These guys are good.

Hey, don't worry!
Surveillance is my specialty.

OK, then. Just get going.

Go get 'em, Lone Ranger.

Danny, look here.
We gotta take this real cool.

These guys sure aren't the DEA,
but it's still Keyes's party.

You stick around, stay out of sight.
I'll meet you at one o'clock.

We'll take a good look at that room, OK?
Hey, wait for me.

Danny boy, no hero stuff, understand?

Watch your ass, Danny boy.

She never made it.

The feds were waiting.
Hustled her off in a chopper.

- Let me guess. A silver Alouette?
- That very one.

And guess what. Your pal Keyes
was running the whole show.

- And his butt boys.
- Son of a bitch.

You done real good, kid.

Now tomorrow, start a tail on Keyes.
Everything he does, everywhere he goes.

Who knows? You might just get lucky.

Lieutenant! Luck is my specialty.

Yeah. I bet it is.

Now, if you'll excuse me, Lieutenant,

I got some serious police work
to attend to. Come to Papa.

- Hey, are your balls OK?
- Fine.

How are yours?

- Hey, do you mind? It's my sister.
- Say what?

Oh, you're not my sister.

Son of a bitch.
Who are you really chasing, Keyes?

Time to go to work.

- Shit.
- Danny boy.

Mike?

Oh, God!

Oh, Mother of God!

Lieutenant Michael R Harrigan:

Violence prone,
obsessive/compulsive personality,

a history of excessive physical force

throughout his 18 years
as a Los Angeles police officer.

Also responsible for the destruction of
11 patrol cars, a city bus...

What about ten commendations for valor

and the best felony arrest record
in the history of this department?

That and my intervention on your behalf
are the only reasons you still have a job.

If it were up to the chief,

he'd charge you with Detective Archuleta's
death and suspend you.

As it is, he left it in my hands.

Now, this John Wayne attitude

and flagrant disregard for policy
is gonna end now.

No one under my command will impede
the progress of this federal task force

headed by Agent Keyes. No one.

That's it. Dismissed.

Mike, you're too close to this.
Stay out of it.

It's a police matter.
They can't keep the department out of it.

We'll find Danny's killer.

Captain, Danny and I came up together.
15 years on the fucking street!

Whoever killed him's gonna pay.
I'm gonna finish it.

Hey, come on. What is this?

Listen, shithead.

I don't give a fuck what you want with
this asshole because now it's personal.

And he's a dead man.

What you're dealing with
is over your head. I'm warning you...

You! You don't know
what you're dealing with.

And I'm warning you.
Stay the fuck out of my way!

- I'll take care of him.
- No.

Let him go. We're too close.

...claiming as his, turf controlled by the
Jamaican and Colombian drug lords.

Watch as we continue our report.

Yes, the word is out: LA is up for grabs,
the spoils of our once fine city

going to the ruthless scum

who can spread the most
carnage and blood in our streets.

The latest update on the scoreboard:

Five assorted trash and one good cop,
one of the best on our force.

Who's next? Where's the mayor?
He's not even in the city...

Forget it. It's over.

Mike, goddamn it. This ain't
your personal little war, you know.

I loved Danny, too.

Hey, you told me the only way
you survive is because you're a team.

The door swings both ways. Remember?

All right. We'll do it together.

Come on. Talk to me about Keyes.

We've been on him for the last three days.

And they're not looking for drug dealers.

Yeah. They've been setting up
weird radar sensors all over downtown.

I used my whole repertory
to keep up with them!

I had scanners on them,
but they scrambled my shit up.

They had equipment I can't begin to touch.
And then this morning...

- I lost 'em.
- We lost them.

- Where?
- Vernon and lndustry.

- They disappeared!
- The slaughterhouse district?

Yeah, and in this heat...
l mean, BO and barbecue!

Whatever Keyes is looking for,
he's found it, or close to it.

Leona, I want to meet with King Willie.

Willie and I seem to have
the same problem.

- In the meantime, you come with me.
- Mike, it's impossible!

Just do it.

Fuck!

- Omega 1 . This is Control.
- This is Omega 1.

We only have 22 minutes
on safe window of operation.

- Yes, sir.
- Verify that final telemetry check.

Start your test now.
Scan track three, two, one, mark.

Number six, power up on the UV banks.

We're complete on the lower UV banks.
Ready for testing.

Second level,
check for ambient temperature variations.

You got two minutes. Now get going.

To all units. All units, you have

approximately 20 minutes
to finish your task.

- Roger.
- Increase this UV.

Up 42 percent.

Your friend died as the result of
an intrusion in the chest cavity

by an edged weapon
that nearly cleaved the heart in two.

Death was instantaneous.

He was boned like a fish.
I've never seen anything like this.

Please, do not touch anything.

Doctor, what about the other victims?
Anything there?

The federal team
brought in their own forensic examiners.

I am the medical examiner
and the chief pathologist in the city,

and they've cut me out.

Any way you can get a look at evidence
the feds have collected?

- I mean, they must have run tests.
- Lt won't be easy.

Doctor,

I pried this from Danny's hands.
This is what took him into the rafters.

- It has almost no weight.
- But it cuts like steel.

Let me see.

We are now at 150,000 times
normal magnification.

Astonishing.
This material doesn't correspond

to anything on the periodic table.

Lieutenant, what the hell is that thing?

Don't know.
It's not from a hardware store.

- Military?
- Good guess.

Either something that got away,
or something they want.

Keyes. Ah, we're getting closer now
to what happened...

Hey, no! Easy, kid. Put your gun away.

King Willie will see you now.

It's OK.

- Don't you want me with you?
- I'll call you later.

- You want me to follow you?
- I'll call you later!

You want some ganja, man?

License plate number.

1 -8-8...
No, no. 1 -8-8-3...

Oh, fuck!

The door swings both ways, my ass.
This door swings both ways.

Thanks for the ride.

You know,
you guys really ought to cut down.

They say you want to talk to me.

They say you offering me favors.

Tell me why, Babylon. Mr. Policeman.

- I want some information.
- Information.

About the one that's doing all the killing?

He killed your people. Now mine.

I think you know who he is. I want him.

I don't know who he is.

But I know where he is.

- The other side.
- What are you talking about?

The spirit world, man.

You see, it's always the same.

There's no stopping
what can't be stopped.

No killing what can't be killed.

- Make sense, man.
- This thing

that's killing your people and mine
is from the other side.

I can feel him all around.

You can't see the eyes of the demon

until him come calling.

This is dread, man. Truly dread.

Nothing else for you here, policeman.
Time to go.

Prepare yourself.

"His foundation lie in the holy mountain.
Selah."

This is Tony Pope live from LA,
the city of fear.

The psycho-vigilante killer
continues his daily diet for murder.

Bodies strung out,

bodies with the skins ripped off,
the hearts torn from the cadavers.

And just recently,
King Willie, the drug lord,

the vicious drug lord found
in an alley just around the corner

with his head cut off and his
spinal column torn from the body.

A fitting demise to the Prince of Powder.

First Danny, then King Willie.
And you were right there!

He's playing with you, Mike.
You've gotta be careful.

Yeah. We all gotta be careful.
What about Keyes? Anything there?

Definitely something slippery about Keyes.

Seems there's a Peter J Keyes.
PhD physical sciences, Cornell.

Hot out of college
and into the Strategic Defense lnstitute.

Then two years later commissioned
as a captain in Air Force lntelligence.

Mike, this is a dead end.
We're way out of our league!

Look, I don't care who's involved.

This guy killed Danny
and he's going to fall!

- What about the good doctor?
- I'm here, Lieutenant.

The federal authorities erased everything
from the computer file except for this:

Part of a chemical test on a
fragment of wood from the penthouse.

And it contained traces of
cattle blood and heavy traces of steroids.

I believe
whoever killed Detective Archuleta

had recently been in a slaughterhouse.

- That's where I lost Keyes the first time!
- That's where we'll find him.

Take the metro. I'll pick you up
at Vernon station in an hour.

Just because you don't see Keyes's boys
doesn't mean they're not around.

I just want you to stay in the car. OK?
Your mom and I won't be very long.

You sit still.
We'll be back in a few minutes.

All right?

- Come on, honey.
- Yes, darling.

- Which way was it?
- Down here.

Take that, you scum-sucking dog.

Want some candy?

Brian?

- You come here right this minute!
- Mommy, I saw a ghost.

Want some candy?

Rest.

Want some candy?

Danny's necklace.

I hate the subway at rush hour.

It's hard enough to find a seat,
and if you do,

someone's pissed in it
or thrown up over it.

This damn heat is killing me, man.

Hey, it's me!

- I look great!
- Oh, shut up.

No autographs, Pop.

- Look. There's two seats right there.
- Don't touch me!

Hey! Get off!

This shit never ends.

- After you.
- Asshole!

- Excuse me. Police business.
- Get out of my way!

Hey, baby. Bésame mucho. Come on!

You look like a sympathetic dude.
My... partner here needs an operation.

But we're a little short of cash,
if you know what I mean?

No need for that.

- Money!
- Get the hell away from me!

I know how to use this!

- Don't make me use this thing!
- Bet mine's bigger than yours!

I'll take that.

- Hold it. Police!
- We're in trouble now.

- Nobody move!
- Alto, policia, no se muevan!

Everybody take a deep breath,
loosen your sphincters.

We don't need
any rush-hour Rambos there.

Tu también, motherfucking baby!
Drop it and sit down! Siéntate!

What the hell is that?

Leona, you OK?

This is it! He's in the train!
Get these people out of here!

Jerry! What's happening?

Get down! Get out of the way!

- Jerry!
- Leona!

Leona, get 'em out! Go!

Now!

Jerry!

Leona, do it! Now!

Hey! Over here!
Yeah, that's right. Come and get it.

Come on! Move it! Let's go! Vamos!

Move it! Don't panic, just go! Go! Vamos!

Jesus Christ. What the fuck are you?

Wait!

Vamos! Come on!

Keep walking! Come on, you too!
Vamonos!

- Come on, motherfucker!
- Want some candy?

Let's dance!

Come on, get out of the way!
Come on, out!

Come on, move it!

That way! Towards the light!

Come on! Get out!

Oh, God.

Jerry.

God, not again.

Move your ass! Move out the way!

- Watch out! What's happening?
- It's a fucking slaughter, Lieutenant.

Hey, Jerry!

Leona! Oh, please. Leona...

- How's she doing?
- Deep shock, but she's alive.

I hear fetal heart sounds. She's pregnant.
Let's move. LA County. Stat!

Stand back.
On three. One, two, three. Load up.

Out of my way!
Move out the way! Move it!

Man!

Wait a minute. Let me see.

- Where's Jerry?
- I don't know.

We found his badge.

Who got hit this time?

Five gang members, bunch of commuters.
Doesn't make sense.

They were all armed.

- What do you mean?
- It's the chief.

Wait here.

What the hell's going on down there?

It's a damn nightmare. Civilians this time.

- All killed?
- Yeah. Just like the others.

Damn!

Jerry!

Holy shit! What the hell is going on here?

Hey, guys, get the camera on!
Get the camera on this right now!

Get that goddamn thing on film!

What's going on?

Hey, Harrigan!
More victims! More mutilations!

- Fuck you!
- Pope!

Pope? Are you there, Pope?
Pope, what's going on?

- Sir, the cop is back.
- Goddamn.

Harrigan! Don't you show up
in the damnedest places.

Come here, Lieutenant.

I got something
you might find interesting.

What is this?

How many times do I have to tell you?
You don't know what you're dealing with.

There's your killer. Wonderful, isn't it?

Pheromone signature left by his body.
Scent molecules. Punch up three.

Ten years ago
one of his kind eliminated an

elite Special Forces crew
in Central America.

There were two survivors.
They indicated that, when trapped,

the creature activated
a self-destruct device

that destroyed enough rainforest
to cover 300 city blocks.

Remarkable weaponry. That's right,
Lieutenant. Other-world life forms.

A fucking alien!

Lwo Jima, Cambodia, Beirut.
Drawn by heat and conflict.

He's on safari.
Lions. The tigers. The bears. Oh, my!

Trophies. That's the game, isn't it, Keyes?

You're the lion. This is his jungle.

- So why can't we see him?
- Defensive adaptations are astounding.

It's somehow able to bend light.
Perfect camouflage.

- You admire the son of a bitch.
- Not what he does.

For what he is. For what he can give us.
A new era of scientific technology.

I've waited a lifetime for this,
and I'm not going to miss the chance.

We have something
on the pheromone scanners.

Target one is on the roof.

It's taken us two weeks
to learn his patterns.

He comes here every two days to feed.

- Seems he has a taste for beef.
- I didn't think he was vegetarian.

Well, we've prepared a trap
for this predator.

We are certain that this being
can see in only one spectrum of light -

- ...infrared.
- Infrared?

- He hunts by seeing our heat.
- Block the heat and he's blind.

These suits insulate body heat,
making the team invisible.

We've flooded the place
with radioactive dust

and installed powerful
ultraviolet lighting everywhere.

The dust adheres to his body,
making him visible.

Liquid nitrogen. You're not gonna kill him.
You're gonna freeze him.

- We have to capture him.
- He's moving.

Finally.

Grab a seat. Enjoy the show.
This is history.

Capture and isolation is our objective.
Defensive action only on my orders.

Power up. Lights on. Let's get him!

We're in. Switch to ultraviolet.

- Radio silence. Out.
- Engage ultraviolet units A through J.

- What's all this interference?
- Correcting the problem, sir.

They're moving to the second level.

Target's still moving, heading towards
the number two stairwell.

Playing right into it.

Wait a minute. It's stopped.

It's moving back against the wall.

It's backing up.
It's moving away from them.

Your boys have been made.

- Sir, it's circling around behind them.
- Get 'em out! They're walking into a trap!

Keyes, he's behind you.
Third floor structure. Right there!

Who is this? Clear the line.

He sees the damn lights.
Turn 'em off! Shit!

Stop him!

- Door. Open it.
- Go fuck yourself.

- OK. OK.
- The door.

- Yes, sir.
- You don't know what you're doing.

- It's open.
- You'll ruin everything!

Fuck yourself!

Defensive formation one.
Nitrogen guns, safeties off.

Everyone else, rock'n'roll. This is it.

- He's moving down from the right.
- Garber, where is he? I can't see him.

He's right there!

Goddamn it! Where is he?
Well, give me a coordinate! Where is he?

- Watch out!
- My God.

Watch your crossfire!

I'm losing my pressure.

Keyes, you all right?

Keyes, it's over here!

Come on! Switch over! Shit! I can't see!

They're gone.

They're all dead.

You want me? Here I am!

You are one

ugly mother...

Motherfucker!

Guess who's back.

Too late to go home now.

Get out of here, Harrigan.
I'm gonna save your ass.

This is between me and him!

God...

Birds.

Damn birds.

OK, pussyface.

It's your move.

Shit happens.

Oh, God.

That's all I need is birds.

You can do it.

I can do it.

It's like falling off a log.

Like a 30-story log. Damn!

Maybe I'll get lucky and fall.

Damn it.

The final Jeopardy answer is this:

Berengaria, who never set foot in England,
was its queen for eight years

after marrying this king on Cyprus.
Good luck.

Herb?

Herb, wake up!
There's somebody in the bathroom.

- It's all right. I'm a cop.
- I don't think he gives a shit.

Shit!

Get back inside!

Holy Moses. Not again. Shit!

Son of a bitch.

Oh, God.

Why can't this guy stay on the ground?

Come on, come on. Come to Papa.

Stop! Stop the elevator!

Stop it!

Now where the hell am I?

Where are you?

Jesus Christ.

That's right, asshole!

Shit happens!

OK. Who's next?

Take it.

"1715."

Harrigan!
What the fuck happened in there?

Goddamn it. We came so close!

Don't worry, asshole.
You'll get another chance.